


Farewell, Manzanar

by Kochantoyachan



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Code Switching, Japanese internment camps, M/M, OOC characters, farewell to manzanar, hate speech used in historical context, historical fiction - Freeform, intentional Japanese dialogue, just one long angst fest tbh, misc OCs to use as plot devices, overdramatization, there are no happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-19
Updated: 2003-06-19
Packaged: 2020-12-16 11:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21035753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kochantoyachan/pseuds/Kochantoyachan
Summary: Yuugi is a young Japanese boy who is roughly thrust into one of the internment camps of WWII. Through the course of 3 years, he learns what it is to love, and to lose.





	Farewell, Manzanar

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings: Atem/Yami Yuugi x Yuugi Mutou
> 
> Content Warnings:
> 
> This fic is based off of the novel Farewell to Manzanar. Due to this, there are racial slurs and hate speech directed at major characters. This does not reflect my own personal opinions or biases, but are an integral part of the historical setting of the piece. The internment of any human or creature against their will is deplorable.
> 
> The "broken" Japanese in dialogue is used as a reflection of code switching and their heritage/culture. I apologize if this comes across as "fangirl Japanese," but code switching, the act of switching languages or dialects based on one's social setting or environment, is a large part of the story, and helps support the culture and heritage of the characters.
> 
> Major character trauma and death. This piece is very somber, and there are no happy endings to be found here.
> 
> Cross-posted from FF.net. Originally published 6/19/2003.

My name is Mutou Yuugi. I was born June 4, 1931, in Domino, Japan. When I was 3, Mother and Father brought me to America by ship, but Dad… didn't make it- he died of scurvy, his body thrown callously over the side of the boat and into the deep blue sea. Mother was outraged at the lack of respect for the dead, but as time passed, and we arrived at our destination, her anger slowly gave way to cold, unending depression. Four months after Father's death, I found myself attending her funeral, clutching the happi coat she'd made me last winter as if it were the only thing attaching me to this world. I was alone now, and the only family I had left was Mutou Sugoroku, my grandpa.

The authorities sent me packing soon after Mother's death, and I rode by train to meet Jii-chan in San Francisco, where he'd take care of me. Jii-chan was an affable old man, always looking on the bright side of things, and never letting things dampen his spirits. He ran a small store by the docks, earning a living by selling tackle, bait, and fishing equipment. I'll always remember the first time I walked into his house above it- I'd made a face and stated, "Jii-chan, why're we staying wit' da fishies? Dey smell bad…". He stared at me a full minute before laughing himself sick… I don't think I ever completely forgave him for that.

I grew up there, living happily, despite my morbid past. I learned to mind the shop myself, when Jii-chan had to run errands. Most of our customers were Asian as well, though a few were full-fledged Caucasian Americans, and they were always very kind, though they loved to tease me about being "all grown up, and still in the single-digits." That changed once I turned 10, though. They started bringing word of their daughters, trying to set me up with one of them. I remember one man who was particularly determined- he brought his daughter, Anzu, with him every day so she could 'play,' though all she ever did was flirt with me when I was trying to work. In those last few months before December, I managed to complete only half as much as I would have without her distracting me. She was sweet and all, but she simply tried too hard.

Then, one chilly winter day, December 7, something happened- something that would change my life forever… Jii-chan had been out running errands as usual, leaving me in charge. Everything was as normal as could be, but after four whole hours and still no sign of Anzu and her father, or any customers, for that matter, I began to worry. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach- something just didn't feel right. The clock hanging on the wall above the buckets of live shrimp was deafening in the still silence, ticking away second by second, making me all the more nervous. It was as if the whole world was dead, frozen in time, and I was the only one remaining.

That was when I heard them coming. At first, I'd thought my ears were playing tricks on me, but I peeked out through the blinds nonetheless. A thick fog obscured my vision, blown in by the ocean winds, but still I saw them- tiny black dots in the distance. The dots grew closer, and I realized they were a large group of people heading my way. I was a bit frightened at the number of them, but I readied myself at the register, waiting for their arrival. I wasn't sure what it was they wanted, or if they were having a fishing competition or something, but I had to do my job. Besides, there was nothing to worry about, right? All of them must have stopped in at one time or another, and none of the customers I knew would ever hurt me.

Apparently, I was wrong. They stormed in through the front door, the bell jingling so violently it fell from its perch above it, and I noticed that all the men there were the Americans who usually bought supplies here. Their faces were red with anger, and one of them, a guy named Ben Greenman, grabbed me by the collar and lifted me over the counter.

"Where's that old man of yours, you Jap?" he demanded, his breath soured with what smelled like cheap whisky, "Where is that bastard?!"

I'd muttered that he'd gone out for a while, and that I didn't know when he'd be back or where he was specifically, but that wasn't good enough for him.

"That asshole! The damn coward ran away because he knew I'd come… He knew… I'll fucking kill him!" He declared, and roughly shoved me into the arms of two other men I couldn't put names to. "Take him to the rest, everyone else- burn the place."

My eyes widened, and I cried out in horror. The men holding me punched me in the stomach to silence me, then dragged me away into the mist as the others ransacked my grandfather's store. I tried to escape my captors' grasp, fighting to save the only home I had left, but they merely injured me until I was too exhausted to continue. As we disappeared over the crest of a hill, a red glow caught my eye, and I knew it was my home. I gave up, lost in shock and sorrow, and let them take me to wherever it was they were headed.

I ended up in what seemed to be a warehouse of some kind, on the outskirts of town. There, the two men threw me to the ground, leaving me in the darkness as they locked the doors we came through with what sounded like a chain. I shivered in the dank air, weighed down by the heavy, familiar smell of dead fish. So- this was a place where they packaged their catch… made sense, since they did that for a living. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, surprised to find pale figures surrounding me on all sides. I heard snatches of my native language, the words echoing throughout the building like whispers on the wind. Hesitantly, I crawled over to one of the figures, finding it to be a boy a few years older than me.

"W- what's going on?" I asked him, gesturing to the myriad of people locked away with us. "Why are they doing this?"

"I'm not sure…" he replied, hugging a young girl who looked to be his sister, "They didn't really let us talk first, ya know? Just stormed in and took us… Took Mom and Pop to some other place…"

His grip tightened on the girl's sleeping form, as if the men would steal her from him any second. I knew how he felt- they'd taken everything from me, and the only hope I had left was that Jii-chan was still out there somewhere, safe, and away from Ben Greenman.

"They did say one thing, though…" the boy whispered, "They said that Pearl Harbor was bombed, and that 'the Japs are gonna pay'…"

So that was it. That was why Ben had been so angry… His family had moved to Pearl Harbor a year ago, and since it'd been attacked… But why would he want Jii-chan? He didn't know about the bombing, did he? The boy must've noticed my unease, because the next thing I knew, his left hand was gripping my shoulder.

"You okay? What's your name, anyway?" he questioned, trying to get my mind off whatever it was that was making me feel uneasy.

I smiled at his efforts, rewarding him with my name, learning in turn that he and his sister were Jounochi Katsuya and Shizuka respectively. There was a long pause after that, and we both sat there, thinking about our situation. Finally, after what seemed like a millennia, he spoke up.

"Ne, Yuugi- what do you think they'll do with us?" his voice was a lot more strained, as if he were fighting to keep his real emotions from filtering through.

I leaned back against the empty ice chest behind us, hugging my knees to my chest. "I don't know, Jounochi-kun… I really don't know…"

We all sat like that the rest of the night, hoping that somehow, this was all just a horrible nightmare that we'd wake up from and everything would be okay again. That we'd simply go back to our normal lives and never have to deal with any of this….

….It's kind of hard to think it's a dream when they just keep coming in with more of us.

~*~

Three days… they kept us in there for three whole days, and on the fourth, the large metal doors opened, the police had come, and the ones who had placed us here had been caught. They treated us no different, however; handling us roughly with no regard to our safety. Katsuya, Shizuka, and I were shoved off to one side, along with any others who had been separated from their guardians. There, we were questioned and prodded; it seemed they even believed that children were part of the "Japanese bombing cult".

Once they were sure we didn't know anything, we were taken along with the others to a facility run by the "American Friends Service", a company that helped to get those who were questioned, and knew nothing, back on their feet. This did diddly squat for orphans like us, or for the enemy aliens, who were left in the background again, awaiting our fate. Finally, a group of police officers stood before us and announced that the remaining adult men were to be transferred to Fort Lincoln in Bismarck, North Dakota, and the women and orphaned children were to go to a camp called Manzanar in the Owens Valley.

Later that day, Katsuya, Shizuka, and I boarded a packed bus headed toward that exact location. The ride was a quiet, uncomfortable one; the tension was so thick, I was sure I could see the steady waves of fear radiating off everyone as we snuck nervous glances out the windows. After what seemed like an eternity, we passed through the front gates, coming to a stop just outside a large, poorly built building I later found out was the mess hall. We piled out, staring in wonder at the strange pit of dust and sand we'd landed in, and they assigned us rooms to sleep in.

Some of the children managed to find their parents there, but no matter how hard I searched, Jii-chan was nowhere to be seen. I wondered idly if he, too had been sent to Fort Lincoln; held there against his will. It was a better fate than if Ben and the other men had found him, that's for sure… Katsuya and Shizuka were reunited with their parents, and were assigned a block to live in like the others, leaving me with the feeling of being alone once more. The other orphans and I were assigned a block to ourselves next to the small Catholic Church the camp had. With all of us packed into that tiny building, I knew that life here was something I'd probably never be able to get used to.

There were no beds or furniture, and only one stove tucked away in the back corner. We each had two blankets and a small pillow, but there were no dividers or walls to separate us. Children 5 and below stayed in a different cubical that served as the nursery, leaving me and the rest of the 6-17 year olds together in the cramped quarters. There were at least 10 of us, all boys, since the children's dorms were split by gender, and it was every man for himself to pick out which spot he wanted for his own. I somehow managed to get the space near the only window, which I knew could be trouble in the winter. Still, I was grateful not to be behind the door or something and settled down as best I could without disturbing the blonde (Malik) or the silver-haired boy (Ryou) on either side of me.

I laid out one of my blankets, lying on it with my head and pillow toward the wall while I tucked the other blanket under my head as well, propping myself up. I glanced around the room at my new roommates, taking in their appearances and mentally checking who stayed where. A brunette and his little brother were in the back corner across from the stove, another brunette with spiked hair was next to them. A second silver-haired boy stayed next to the stove, glaring at everyone as if challenging them to say otherwise, and next to him was another blonde who seemed to want to do just that. A boy with spiky black hair pulled back into a short ponytail scowled from over the second blonde's shoulder, wishing the both of them would leave so he could sleep. How on Earth they'd ever discovered the blondes I couldn't tell- they didn't look Japanese at all. Perhaps their names gave them away? Ah well, I'd find out later…

Finally, there was the boy sitting across from me, staring at me intently. He looked to be around 14 or 15, but his eyes seemed to be much older; all of ours were, after the camps. I blinked and flushed under his steady gaze, wondering why he seemed so interested in me, of all people. We locked eyes for a moment, and I found myself lost in twin pools of a deep crimson. His eye color was strange- he wasn't white, and if he was here, it meant he had some Japanese blood in him, somewhere, but where on Earth could he have gotten his red eyes from? It was funny, really- even with such a demonic look, I wasn't frightened by him at all, just a tad nervous.

Eventually, he asked me who I was, never breaking eye contact. I told him my story, and as I moved on to what I'd gone through for the past few days, I couldn't help but break down. I felt so helpless! How was I supposed to survive here, on my own?!

I clenched my fists in my lap, hanging my head so he wouldn't see the tears streaming down my face. I didn't want him to see me cry… A shadow loomed over me, and I was surprised when a pair of warm arms wrapped around me.

"Shh… It's alright. I know it's hard, but we're stuck here together…" he whispered in my ear, then tipped my head up to meet his gaze. "Shikata ga nai, ne?" (It can't be helped, right?)

He gave me a small smile, and I remember my heart had felt it had skipped a beat. Who was this strange boy with demon eyes who was so gentle with me? I had to know…

"What's your name?" I questioned, leaning into his embrace- I didn't know why, but I felt safe there, with his arms as my solace.

"My name is Atemu."

~*~

I didn't learn everyone's stories until much later. A few, such as Bakura Ryou and I, were hesitant to give the information; the pain still too fresh in our minds and hearts. Others, like Nahkti Kuroi, Ryuuji Otogi, and Seto Kaiba, took a great deal of persuading before spilling the barest points of their lives; unwilling to open up to others. Others still told their tales in a spiteful manner, angry they had to be locked away. Among these were Malik Ishtar, Ahmose Khaset, Hiroto Honda, and, sadly, dearest Atemu.

Atemu was the only thing that kept me sane, those long years. He helped me learn to adjust to the ways of the camp, and whenever I felt like giving up, he drove all my worries away with a simple hug. Though I never said it aloud, I knew I loved him with all my heart. I think he knew as well…

Ours was a simple, yet deep kind of love. It was the kind where words weren't needed… Like we could read each other's minds and emotions, and always knew just what the other needed.

We never mentioned our pasts, if we could help it. All it brought was pain and sorrow, so we avoided speaking of them at all costs. I was silently grateful for this, fearing what Atemu would do if he were to start another tirade about our mistreatment. He was kind and caring, that's for certain, but he had a terrible anger, one that no one would ever want to tangle with.

And there we lived for two full years, trying to be happy despite our situation. During this period, a ballot was given to each of us, a total of two yes or no questions on it. "Are you willing to serve in the Armed Forces of the United States on combat duty, wherever ordered? Yes or no? Will you swear unqualified allegiance to the United States of America and faithfully defend the U.S. from any or all attack by foreign or domestic forces, and forswear any form of allegiance or obedience to the Japanese emperor, or any other foreign government, power, or organization? Yes or no?"

When Atemu received his, he nearly exploded in rage. "How dare they ask this of us?!" he'd shouted, "They steal our lives from us, then expect us to bend down and kiss their asses?! I won't stand for it!"

He was about to tear up his ballot, just to give our captors a piece of his mind, but I'd stopped him just in time, realizing the position we were in. If he said "yes, yes" or "no, yes", we'd be fine. If we said "yes, no" or even worse, "no, no", they'd take him, a "traitor", to a different camp, and I'd be separated from him forever.

I told him my findings, begging him to go along with it and put "no, yes", if only to stay with me. We were still only considered children- if he wanted to act differently in the future, he could blame it on a child's naivety… Anything to make him stay by my side… He'd grudgingly marked his paper "no, yes", then promptly settled down in his makeshift bed, refusing to talk to me.

I knew I'd acted selfishly, taking away something very important to him, and I feared it was the end of our unspoken relationship. I was heartbroken- as heartbroken as a twelve year old could be, and often regret my decision. I only wanted for everything to be alright between us again, and even summoned up the courage to speak to him, but fate decided to intervene.

Jii-chan was transferred here. He'd been stuck in Fort Lincoln before, and had earned his way out after numerous interviews in which he proved his innocence. He'd asked to be sent here, having heard that others from our former location might be found in Manzanar. They came to collect me from the orphanage just as I'd approached Atemu, and was never given a chance to tell him while I was dragged from what had been my home for the past two years.

After resettling in a family block, coincidentally the same as Jonouchi-ikka, I realized just how much Jii-chan had changed. He was more sullen than usual, his happy-go-lucky attitude nowhere to be seen. He often sat in a corner of the small cabin with Katsuya and Shizuka's father, speaking in low tones and drinking homemade sake. Both he and Jounochi had taken a turn for the worse, after being forced to live in captivity. They'd become irritable, and sometimes were so drunk that the three of us had to escape outside while Katsuya's mother tried to calm them down.

I'm pretty sure all three of us still remember the yelling. We would try to ignore it the best we could, sometimes sneaking off to other cabins to spend the night with friends. I remember the whole time, all I wanted to do was run back to Atemu's warm, safe arms; to tell him over and over how sorry I was for being so selfish, and that I wanted to stay by his side, not Jii-chan's.

Every day I thought of this, silently promising myself I'd do it, and every night my cowardice would surface, leaving me to cry myself to sleep once more.

~*~

Then, it happened. Something I had always feared…. Those who were tired of living this way banded together to kill off the "inu"- those who supposedly gave up their honor to serve as spies for the American armies. Uprisings sprouted up everywhere, and during night nor day was it safe to walk the streets alone. There seemed to be riots every other night, and the blood red light of torches constantly shone through the one window of our cell. Sometimes, they'd pound on our door in the middle of the night, asking us to join with them.

The first time, the adults had let them come in, talking things over in a corner and drinking sake. Jii-chan listened to the man, but solidly refused to join with him. There was "no need for senseless violence that will only get one killed", he'd said. The man had been furious, turning and storming out the door, calling "INU!" over his shoulder. Jii-chan sat with a look of indifference, but something in his eyes told me just how torn he was between his pride and honor, and his life. He wasn't a dog- he was just a worn man trying to survive.

All times after that, we ignored the rapping. We pretended not to hear, and in keeping quiet, we would be kept safe when the authorities came; they would always come to break up the mobs. We were neutral, though our pride would suffer for it. Then came the day of reckoning- and the largest mob of them all.

One of the rioters, a young cook, had been taken into custody for having attacked a leader of the Japanese American Citizen's League, Fred Tayama. This had caused an uproar among the others, and soon, over three hundred people were seeking vengeance. It was at 6:00 P.M. that we heard a knock upon our door.

At first we ignored it, presuming it to be yet another foolish person trying to enlist us in the rioters' cult. However, after three or four times without the intruder's giving up and leaving, I cautiously peeked out the window as best I could and tried to see who it was. Never, in a million lifetimes, did I think it would have been Atemu. But the features fit, and I dazedly answered the door, eyes still wide in surprise.

"Atemu-kun, what are you doing here?" I asked, curiosity and shock quite obvious in my tone.

"This is it, Yuugi! After tonight, we'll be free. We're splitting up to save Kazaki Ryuuta while the others finish Tayama off, then we're taking out the rest of those worthless inus! If everything goes right, the idiots holding us captive will be too stunned to act, and we can storm the front gate!" he replied, adrenaline pulsing through his veins in excitement.

"D- demo, what if things don't go the way they're supposed to?! What if the military cut you off?! They have guns, Atemu! You could get hurt!"

I knew I was crying then, worried I'd never see him again. He leaned down a little, catching my face in his hands and wiping my tears with his thumbs. I shivered at the touch I'd missed for so long, gazing up at him with more tears welling up in my eyes.

"Don't go…. Onegai…" I whispered, but in my heart, I knew it was a wasted effort. He'd made up his mind, and no matter what I said, I couldn't stop him.

He dropped his hands, pulling me into a hug. "You know I can't do that… I have to do this, Yuugi. I have to stand up for what I believe in…."

"You believe in going out and getting yourself killed?! Is that it?!" I shouted, shoving his arms off me. I was hysterical—so afraid for his safety that I wasn't paying any attention to what I said at all….

Until I saw his face, and immediately regret having said it. His face was an expressionless mask, as cold and hard as stone. He stepped away from me, his crimson eyes boring into me with unmasked anger.

"No, I believe in freedom."

His voice had been like ice. He turned and headed toward the police station, never looking back. By the time I found my voice, he was long gone.

I slid to the floor, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss. I was furious with myself for angering him like that, and if it was the last thing I ever said to him…. No. I wouldn't think like that. Atemu wasn't going to die. Not him…

That's when I heard the gunshots.

I bolted from the cabin, oblivious to the shouts behind me. I headed straight for the station, praying to every God I knew that Atemu was okay. There was a giant circle of policemen when I arrived, all hovering over something with a sad look in their eyes. I overheard one of them say, "just a kid, too…" and my blood ran cold.

I shoved my way past them and into the center of the circle, horrified by what I saw. There he was—lying on his back with a bullet wound in his stomach. I ran to him, calling his name, and propped his head up on my lap, checking for any signs of a pulse. He was still alive, but just barely.

"Oh, Atemu…" I choked, cradling him to my chest, not caring that my clothes were soon stained with blood.

His eyes opened weakly and he whispered, "Yuugi?"

I put a finger to his lips. "Shhh… It's alright, Atemu. I'm here… Daijoubu desu…" But it isn't alright- he's lost too much blood. He won't last much longer, even with medical care.

"Yuugi… Gomen… yo…." He whispered, then closed his eyes to the world forever.

…And I cried.


End file.
